


Slip of The Lip

by AlleiraDayne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 16:41:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21200822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleiraDayne/pseuds/AlleiraDayne
Summary: Dean buys some cheap box wine and chocolates to help Elizabeth relax.





	Slip of The Lip

**Author's Note:**

> For SPN Fluff Bingo 2019, this piece fills the In Vino Veritas square.

“You bought box wine?”

Dean beamed his winning smile, the one he knew she could hardly resist, as he set his spoils of adventure to the grocery store on the war table. “I know you too well.”

Elizabeth pulled the box across the table and tapped it. “Pinot. You do.”

From the grocery bag, he dug out a bag of chocolates as well. “These are for—”

“Right now?”

He laughed as he leaned against the table and tossed the bag in the middle. “Sure. Why not.”Her long arms reached, and she snatched the bag of chocolates. “So, did I do something good? Am I finally meeting your standards?”

Dean tasted the sarcasm dripping from her voice. “Nah, no reason.” When she raised a crooked brow, he backtracked. “You've never not met my standards, Liz. Hunting with you has been...”

She stood and rounded the table to stand before him, toe to toe, as she popped an unwrapped chocolate into her mouth. “Challenging?”

Dean licked his lips. “Pleasurable.”

There. That ought to give her something to think about. Though she said nothing, her wide hazel eyes bored into his, searching, but for what Dean was unsure. In one breath, her stony glare softened, and she leaned into him. More than ready, Dean moved to embrace her, only for Elizabeth to sidestep him for the kitchen.

“Do we even have wine glasses?”

He reached for her intent on telling her where she might find wine glasses, but when his fingers wrapped around her wrist, he felt her racing pulse, and Elizabeth stopped dead in her tracks. Silence stretched the seconds of their connection, the passage of time marked only by the clock on the nearby wall. And in that moment of unbalance, she fell back into him, into his ready arms, and he held against his chest. Again, she stared, head-on, without reservation. He wondered what it was she sought in his gaze, and what she actually found, if anything. The truth? That their night in the Impala had meant more to him than either of them had initially thought?

Her rosy cheeks flushed so pink, Dean wondered if it hurt. She had learned something. Something salacious enough that she licked her lips and looked at his. So, like a moth drawn to the flame, Dean leaned in ever so slowly, but in a sudden flurry of limbs, Elizabeth sidestepped him again.

“There should be two glasses in the liquor cabinet in the library,” he muttered.

“Oh,” she started as she turned to look. “Okay. I’ll… go grab a couple.”

He slumped into his chair at the war table and flipped the pages of a book without any intention to read. When Elizabeth returned, he poured them each a generous glass and handed one to her.

Bright pink lips pressed to the rim of the glass as she swallowed a large gulp. Dean did his best to follow suit, but wine never did much for him. At least not on its own. Maybe with a meal. But even then, he rarely ate a meal that called for wine pairings. Grills and beer and whiskey. And the occasional scotch when they could afford it. Dean’s pallet required little else.

“So, you never said why you got the box of wine,” Elizabeth said. “I know you don't drink wine.”

Dean shrugged. “I can't get my friend a box of cheap wine?”

“Not if you know your friend loves cheap box wine. And chocolate,” she said as she unwrapped another piece and popped it into her mouth.

“I just thought you'd appreciate it,” he said. “We've been working really hard, you're stressed. I wanted to help you relax.”

Her coy smirk softened and turned into a sort of frown. “Oh,” she said as she looked into her glass. “That was… very thoughtful of you.”

“Why?” Dean asked. “Did you think I was trying to get into your pants or something?”

Elizabeth flashed a grimace at that. “No.” She scoffed. “No way.” She shook her head. “I mean, if you wanted that, you’d just proposition me. Like last time. Right?”

As much as he wished he preferred her casual nature about whatever sort of relationship they had, a sinking sensation filled the pit of Dean’s stomach. Something had changed over the last few months hunting with Elizabeth and her friend Natalie. Except he couldn’t put his finger on it. And the longer Dean thought, the more distant he grew as they talked and drank, his skin prickling with gooseflesh and his feet running cold.

Hours disappeared in the blink of an eye when Dean poured out the last of the box into her glass, and Elizabeth struggled to take it from him.

“I swear, I’m not drunk,” she professed as she stood.

Though her speech was clear, her typically dexterous hands fumbled at everything. “Yeah,” Dean agreed as he lurched from his chair. “Me neither.”

“But I think I’m gonna finish this in the tub,” she said as she hefted her glass. “Thanks for the wine and chocolate and good conversation. I needed a break.”

“Can I join you?”

The words were out of his mouth before he thought to even speak them. And Elizabeth, with her flushed cheeks and heavily lidded eyes, smiled. “Whatever happened to being just friends?”

Focused steps rounded the table as Dean shuffled to her. “Friends can sing _Endless Love_ in the dark.”

Her bright laughter filled the war room, lilting as it faded. “Oh, that… that was good,” she said as she wiped a tear from her cheek. “I haven’t laughed that hard in a while.”

He smiled at that. “I love hearing you laugh.”

So close, red wine stained her perfect lips, and Dean did his best to resist every urge in his body to do something about it. But his eyes gave him away, he knew. Elizabeth licked her lips clean as she spoke.

“I love you—”

Her voice caught in her throat as she stuttered and gaped. He had misheard her. Yes. That had to be it. Or she was joking. Her wide-eyed shock and hand covering her gaping mouth could mean nothing else.

“I mean, I love it when you make me laugh.”

Boldness. Go big or go home. Dean wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed his hand to the small of her back. She eased into him as she smoothed her hand up his chest and over his shoulder to rest at the back of his neck. When she settled flush against him, he asked. “Are you sure you didn’t mean it?”

Her lips pressed to his for the most tender kiss that had ever graced his flesh. Gentle passes of her tongue teased at his, and Dean submitted to her every move, pliable and anxious for more. Indiscernible seconds passed as he drowned in her presence, pulled beneath the current by her duplicitous undertow.

At long last, they parted, and she licked her blessed lips, so swollen and red, before she spoke.

“Shut up and come drink shitty wine in the bathtub with me, dammit.”


End file.
